Pinestar's Choice
by Dawn Rhapsody
Summary: The ThunderClan leader in Bluefur's time decides to go live with Twolegs - but why? Tensions with WindClan intensify after a patrol kills a ThunderClan apprentice, and Pinekit's brother, Redkit, may not be clan born...
1. Sunpaw's Death

**Pinestar's Choice**

**You can also find Pinestar's Choice with (poor) illustrations on DeviantArt, user Kossmoe.**

Allegiances

**THUNDERCLAN  
>LEADER: <strong>Foxstar – light brown tom with black tail tip and yellow eyes  
><strong>DEPUTY: <strong>Leopardear – brown and black spotted she-cat  
><strong>MEDICINE CAT: <strong>Shadeflood – gray tom with black brindling

**WARRIORS:  
><strong>Goldwing – brown tom with gold stripes  
>Patchsong – pretty calico she-cat with green eyes<br>Copperfall – rusty brown tom with white belly  
>Cloudeye – light gray tom<br>Frostpelt – white she-cat with gray stripes  
>Willowshine – gray-blue she-cat<br>Darkbreeze – large black tom with blue eyes

**APPRENTICES:  
><strong>Larkpaw – tortoiseshell she-cat with pale green eyes  
>Weedpaw – pale orange tom with yellow eyes<p>

**QUEENS:  
><strong>Sweetbriar – golden brown she-cat with green eyes, mother to Pinekit and Redkit

**ELDERS:  
><strong>Creekvine – large brown tabby with yellow eyes  
>Graysnow – gray she-cat with large scars on pelt<p>

**Pinestar's Choice**

Chapter 1

"All cats who can catch their own prey, gather beneath the High Rock for a Clan meeting!"

The yowl split the silence, and Pinekit jerked from his mother's belly, blinking sleep from his eyes. The warm smell of milk mixed with his mother's scent was the first thing he noticed, though he wasn't fully sure where he was. He turned his head and found a wall of brambles a tail-length from his nose, then remembered he was still in the nursery.

That was a weird feeling, not knowing where he was – after all, he'd only been in the nursery and the sandy hollow outside. He'd dreamt of what the ThunderClan territory was like outside the hollow, and for a split second after the yowl, he'd sworn he'd woken up under a tree whose branches reached the sky.

A brown head poked into the nursery's entrance. "Are you awake? Foxstar's finally going to give the order."

Pinekit looked up to see his father, Goldwing, a cat named for the two strokes of gold along his pelt, much like the dead snakes the apprentices brought home from the Sunning Rocks. He craned his small head up, trying to see where his father's ears touched the top of the den.

"About time!" said Sweetbriar. Pinestar's brother, Redkit, curled up tighter beside him, as if trying to hide his bright red fur beneath his mother's belly. "He shouldn't have let it take this long. WindClan is going to think they can get away with killing cats!"

Pinekit jumped to his feet, puffing out his bright red fur as best as he could. "I want to go to the Clan meeting," he meowed, "I've caught my own prey before! That means I can go, right? That's what Foxstar said."

Goldwing purred. "It's true. You did catch a butterfly."

"I ate it too, so that should count." He bounced around the nest, scattering moss and causing his brother to hiss. What a grumpy cat! "I can go listen, right?"

"Please, will you?" Redkit snapped. "I'm trying to sleep!"

"But that's _all_ you do," Pinekit complained. He moved toward the front of the nursery and peered around his father's large frame. ThunderClan's warriors and apprentices approached the High Rock, their shadows melting into one solid form beneath it. A murmur passed through the throng of cats as they gathered, the tone of their low meows anxious. Foxstar sat on the ledge with his black-tipped tail wrapped around his paws and his eyes narrowed.

"Go ahead," Sweetbriar said, nudging Pinekit with one paw. He fell forward into the soft moss with an indignant mew. "But you need to behave yourself. If you're going to listen to a clan meeting, stay with your father and don't bother any cat."

Pinekit shot out of the nest, skidding to a halt just beside his father. Goldwing touched his ear with his tail, leading him toward the gathered cats. His short legs made walking difficult, but he managed to keep up with Goldwing. None of the other cats turned to look at him, though he thought they should—it wasn't like there were any other kits at this meeting! Though, maybe Larkpaw and Weedpaw still counted: they stood near the front, their small bodies dwarfed by the larger warriors around them. They'd only been made apprentices a few sunrises ago.

"Why does Foxstar look so mad?" Pinekit meowed.

A couple of nearby warriors turned their heads and looked at Pinekit. Goldwing moved his tail in front of Pinekit's mouth. "Shh. Remember what your mother said, don't bother any cat."

"Sorry," he murmured through the brown fur.

Foxstar's black-tipped tail twitched back and forth as he began speaking. Pinekit watched it with great interest, his concentration drowning out the words of the small brown and black warrior. The tiny kit dropped into a crouch, preparing to jump onto High Rock, no matter how tall it was. He knew he could get the tail if he tried.

"Warriors don't fidget," Goldwing whispered.

Pinekit immediately straightened up, curling his tail around his paws in an effort to look like Foxstar. As he glanced at his father, he realized there was a large amount of pride glowing in his eyes, and that only made Pinekit puff up more.

"We will not let WindClan get away with this," Foxstar continued with a hiss, now that Pinekit was listening. Murmurs of agreement echoed from cat to cat, and Pinekit felt his father's frame stiffen beside him. He'd remembered Sweetbriar speaking to Weedpaw and Larkpaw's mother about WindClan, though everything that'd happened before he opened his eyes felt like a distant dream. The situation had been the talk of the Clan for the last few sunrises.

A WindClan hunting patrol had chased a family of four rabbits toward the border just as a ThunderClan hunting patrol had approached to renew the scent markers. A ThunderClan apprentice, Sunpaw, had caught and killed one of the rabbits, since they had been on ThunderClan territory. A fight had erupted, as WindClan claimed the rabbits were theirs. The attack caused serious damage to the apprentice who'd caught the rabbit, the apprentice had died.

Pinekit wondered what had made WindClan so cruel. Did living in the moor make them fox-hearted? From everything he knew, warriors weren't supposed to hurt each other that badly. Every cat in his Clan was furious over it.

"I have spoken to my senior warriors about Sunpaw's death," Foxstar hissed. "We will attack the WindClan camp at dawn."

The cats around Pinekit screeched their approval, their voices tinged with pain. The cat who yowled the loudest was Sunpaw's mother, Patchsong, whose scent Pinekit knew very well. She visited the nursery many times a day, being Sweetbriar's littermate. With Sunpaw's death, she'd been there a lot more, yowling in agony to his mother.

"I will lead the raid," Foxstar growled. "With me, I want Leopardear, Copperfall, Cloudeye, Frostpelt, Willowshine, Patchsong, Darkbreeze, and Goldwing!"

Pinekit blinked as he spoke Goldwing's name, then pressed his muzzle to his father's leg. "You'll show those mangy WindClan cats," he said. He'd never seen a WindClan cat, but they must have all had red eyes and black pelts, from the way they'd killed Sunpaw. How could a cat ever do that?

Goldwing nodded. "I will, in Sunpaw's memory—and Pinekit, you're becoming a fantastic Clan cat, I can tell. I bet you'll be leader someday. I couldn't have asked for more in a son."

Pinekit basked in the praise, his tail uncurling and sticking straight up, until he realized what that meant for his brother. Did Goldwing not like Redkit? He'd always seemed cold to Pinekit's bright red brother, though Pinekit had always figured it was because Redkit slept too much and never did anything, like catch butterflies.

He'd heard the cats outside the nursery murmuring "every cat know what happened with Sweetbriar" whenever his mother was sleeping. Pinekit wished he was "every cat" because he didn't have a clue what that meant, or if it had anything to do with why Goldwing didn't like Redkit. Was his brother different? It didn't make any sense—he and Redkit were littermates, so obviously the three of them and Goldwing were family.

Patchsong sprang past, her green eyes blazing with hurt and revenge. The look caused Pinekit to tense up. It scared him, seeing a cat with that kind of rage in their eyes. Goldwing's head turned to watch Patchsong as she approached the nursery, already hissing to Sweetbriar what she would do to those WindClan cats, especially the one who'd killed her son.

"I need to get some rest now, so I can be ready for the dawn raid," Goldwing said, bumping his nose against Pinekit's side. Despite all the unsettling feelings in the cats around him, Pinekit squealed with delight, batting at his father's muzzle with a paw. His playful swatting turned into an elaborate dance as he bounced around the brown warrior, trying to jump onto him.

Pinekit slammed into a rusty brown tom with a white belly who was walking by, letting out a sharp meow. The tom whirled around and hissed, his ears flattening back against his skull. "Kits belong in the nursery!"

"Copperfall!" Goldwing meowed. "Don't take your anger out on Pinekit! Rip the fur off WindClan cats, not your own Clanmates!"

The other tom narrowed his eyes into slits as Pinekit backed away from him, pressing against his father's forelegs. "He still doesn't belong out of the nursery, and _especially_ not at a Clan meeting." With a furious spit, Copperfall stalked toward the warrior's den, his tail thrashing back and forth. Pinekit watched him leave, then breathed a sigh.

"Grumpy old furball," Goldwing said, then leaned down to lick Pinekit's rumpled fur. "Don't mind him. He's bound to join the elders any day now."

Pinekit ducked his father's licks. "You won't join the elder's den anytime soon, will you?"

"Not if I can help it."

A yowl sounded from the nursery. Pinekit turned his head to see Patchsong dashing away from it. The calico disappeared into the warrior's den with a flick of her black tail. Goldwing watched her go with sympathy in his eyes.

"That sounds like your mother," he said, nudging Pinekit back in the direction of the brambles. "You better get back so she doesn't have my tail for letting you stay out here for so long."

"I'm big now, and I caught my own prey," Pinekit reminded him, puffing out his fur. Maybe if he did that, he'd look bigger, and Goldwing would believe he could stay out of the nursery. Maybe Foxstar would even jump back on the High Rock and give him his apprentice name! He was sick of the way Weedpaw and Larkpaw stopped by the nursery and changed out the moss with boasting mews. Pinekit could do that himself, if some cat would let him!

But then he remembered Redkit. He couldn't just leave his brother in there all alone, though sometimes he felt Foxstar _might _give Pinekit his apprentice name before his brother. Redkit was so much smaller than him and hardly did anything but sleep. Spending all that time curled up would have driven Pinekit crazy; he didn't know how the red tom did it!

Sweetbriar padded out of the nursery as Goldwing and Pinekit approached. She stretched, and Pinekit spotted Redkit standing behind her, blinking heavily. His brother's yellow eyes—so unlike everyone else in his family's green eyes—glowed in the shadows. "I wish I could fight with the patrol," Sweetbriar said. "I'd give anything to help avenge Sunpaw."

Goldwing extended his claws and sunk them into the ground. "Don't worry, I'll teach them a lesson for you."

"I know you will. But please be careful."

"I will, but those WindClan cats won't be getting any mercy."

"Good." The queen bent down and grabbed Pinekit's scruff, much to the young kit's dismay.

"Hey! I can walk!" Pinekit squealed, churning the air with his paws.

"I want to go back to sleep," Redkit whined, his tiny pink mouth stretching wide with a yawn.

Sweetbriar lay down, setting Pinekit beside her. When Pinekit tried to dart back toward Goldwing, she scruffed him again and pulled him back. "Pinekit will be sleeping too. Come, Redkit, it's time to rest."

She placed Redkit at her belly and curled up. Pinekit realized some cat had fixed the nest, because it looked so much better than when he'd sent bits of moss flying in every direction. Though the urge to sleep nagged in the back of his mind, he didn't want to see Goldwing leave. He wanted to fight the WindClan cats with his father.

"I'm going to wake up early and go fight WindClan with you," Pinekit mumbled to the moss, not sure if his father heard him. Paw-steps sounded away from the nursery, and no cat replied to him. He felt his mother and brother relax beside him, and slowly sleep took over his body like a blanket of darkness.

Too consumed by exhaustion to feel disappointed, Pinekit drifted into a sleep filled with trees that reached the sky.


	2. Attack on WindClan

Pinestar's Choice  
>Chapter 2<p>

Pinekit waited outside the nursery, his tiny gaze focused on the entrance of the camp. Dawn light had filtered through the branches and painted the camp many hues of pink and yellow, turning his reddish brown pelt brighter than normal. Most of ThunderClan's remaining cats milled around the camp, anxiety setting whiskers pricking and claws scraping against the stone.

A gray tom with black brindling approached the nursery, tail low. Sweetbriar sat up in her moss bed, Redkit still curled up beside her. "Pinekit? Move out of the way, please, so Shadeflood can come inside."

Shadeflood dipped his head. "Don't worry. He's not bothering any cat."

Pinekit turned, stretching his neck to get a good look at the medicine cat. He was different from the other cats—while the other ThunderClan warriors had sleek pelts and strong muscles, Shadeflood's pelt seemed thin and wiry, almost like he didn't clean it often, and almost seemed to hang from his frame. Pinekit had seen the apprentices bring Shadeflood a piece of fresh-kill from time to time, but the medicine cat would only prod it and eventually offer it to one of the elders.

The gray tom moved past him, his dark tail touching Pinekit's ears as he passed. "How's Redkit doing? Has he improved over the last few days?"

Sweetbriar looked down at the flame-red pelt curled up beside her. "He hasn't. He nurses less than Pinekit does, and he just… doesn't ever want to play like a kit _should_."She released a short yowl. "Is he ever going to be strong enough to become an apprentice?"

"Of course he will. You need to get him to nurse more though so he can get energy from your milk." He crouched down and nosed the small kit. "We don't know what they did to him, so he might need more than a normal kit would."

Pinekit flattened his ears. Who were '_they'_ and what did they do to his brother? He didn't remember any of the other Clan members coming in and bothering him, and Redkit certainly never left the nest.

"Don't you have anything to give him?" Sweetbriar asked. "There has to be something."

Shadeflood shook his head. "Your milk's the best for him. Anything else… all we have to give him is for illness, and he's not sick."

Sweetbriar's eyes widened with frustration, then she bent and prodded at Redkit with one paw. "Wake up. Aren't you hungry?"

Pinekit scuffed at the ground with his front paws in some frustration, then twitched his tail and turned away from the nursery. Sweetbriar and Shadeflood were worried about Redkit, but why? Pinekit remembered sleeping a lot, and only recently did he find he was bursting with energy. Maybe Redkit just needed some more time.

He felt that energy burning beneath his pelt, and the urge to wander around the camp increased. With a purr of delight, he padded toward the center of the stone hollow, looking around. Tree branches dipped over the hollow, shielding it from most of the sky, though he could see patches of blue and pink above. Dawn had long passed.

That meant his father and the other cats must have reached WindClan by now. He pricked his ears, hoping to hear the sound of cats fighting far away on the moorland, but the only thing he heard were the hushed voices of other cats. Pinekit extended his claws and felt them scratch against the stone. "I'm going to be the best warrior ThunderClan has ever had," he growled, stalking toward the fresh-kill pile, which was a bit scarce with most of the warriors out in battle or guarding the hollow.

Weedpaw bounced from the elder's den, a pile of soiled moss in his mouth. He slowed to a halt when he approached Pinekit and spat the moss down at his paws. "What are you doing out of the nursery?"

Pinekit straightened up from his crouch and turned to face Weedpaw, eyes narrowing. "Why? Is it your business?"

The lithe orange apprentice looked at him with amusement, then turned and licked his shoulder. "Of course it is. Clan cats protect kits—it's part of the warrior code. What if you get hurt?"

"You're only one moon older than me!" Pinekit hissed, then paused. Was his naming ceremony really that close? He quivered with excitement and swung his head around, looking toward Foxstar's den. Would the brown and black cat come out and call a clan meeting early? Pinekit was almost the size of Weedpaw, so maybe he could?

Weedpaw crouched to pick up the elders' moss, but didn't close his mouth over it yet. "You're a kit. I'm an apprentice. I'm supposed to look after you."

Pinekit turned away from him, tail thrashing with agitation. He wasn't _just_ a kit, and Weedpaw couldn't treat him like this when they were nursery mates just a few sunrises ago. What kind of cat was he, acting like that? He'd show him!

Pinekit dropped into his crouch again, then pounced for a piece of fresh-kill laying beside the pile. He sunk his tiny, sharp teeth into the squirrel's body and thrashed his head back and forth.

"That's not how you hunt," Weedpaw said with a mrrow of laughter. "You'll tear the prey apart doing that, and then how will the Clan get fed?"

Pinekit spat out a mouthful of squirrel hair. "It is too how you hunt. That's how I got the butterfly."

"You do realize Goldwing is the only one impressed by that, right?" Weedpaw swatted Pinekit's ears. "You don't need to keep bragging about it."

With a hiss, Pinekit batted at Weedpaw. "I didn't go over and bother you, so why don't you leave me alone?"

"I already told you! You're a kit out of the nursery, so I gotta keep an eye on you and make sure you don't get hurt."

"I'll show _you_ I'm not just a kit." He pounced for Weedpaw's tail. Weedpaw lifted it just as Pinekit hit the ground, causing the kit to kick up a cloud of dust.

Weedpaw's tail thrashed with amusement. "Some mighty hunter," he said, purring, though Pinekit noticed it was a haughty purr. "I sure hope your mentor teaches you how to do it properly, or the fresh-kill pile will always stay this bare!"

Pinekit had opened his mouth to snap back a retort when a yowl rose from the forest outside the camp. Both he and Weedpaw froze, turning toward the entrance. Shadeflood poked his head from the nursery, his eyes weary, like he expected many cats to come back from the battle with terrible injuries. Without saying a word, the medicine cat stalked toward his den, his coat bristling in anxiety.

The yowl sounded again, and this time the voice was Foxstar's—Pinekit would recognize it anywhere. The returning raiding party burst through the thorn tunnel entrance. Though the scent of blood immediately flooded the camp, Pinekit saw that the warriors' eyes sparkled with battle fever, and their meows were ones of victory.

Weedpaw dashed over to the party, Pinekit stumbling along behind him. "What happened?" the apprentice asked. "Did you shred WindClan?"

A couple cats began a meow to answer his question, but Patchsong's voice drowned them out. The calico she-cat had a long, bleeding scratch down the side of her flank, and one of her ears was torn, but the cold revenge in her eyes seemed to made her immune to the pain and had lifted her spirits. "WindClan will never touch another ThunderClan apprentice again. I made sure of that!"

Foxstar dipped his head, his breathing coming quickly but strongly. "WindClan won't be causing ThunderClan any more damage. They were weakened by Twoleg activity scaring away prey in the moorland, and the battle was easy for us to win."

Pinekit looked over the group of cats—virtually every cat had a battle scar of some sort. One of Foxstar's claws had been ripped out and blood oozed from the wound, and Cloudeye—a large white and gray warrior—looked the worst, with a badly swollen eye and scratches across his shoulders. Why did they think the battle was easy?

"Even if they were starving," Patchsong said, "how could they break the warrior code, killing an apprentice over prey? Behaving like that—WindClan should be run out of the forest! They don't deserve to live in this land!"

"I'll be mentioning it at the next gathering, too," Foxstar growled. "No cat will soon forget what WindClan did, but don't forget there have always been four clans in the forest."

Patchsong's eyes sparked. "At the very least, we'll see what the other clans have to say about WindClan's actions."

"They will know, Patchsong, but I won't be suggesting they be chased away like rouges."

Pinekit moved around the throng of cats, seeking out his father's brown and gold pelt. Goldwing stood near the back of the group, his flanks heaving and his front paws close together. His expression seemed distant, as if he were looking at something only he could see, up until Pinekit padded up to him. Goldwing lifted his tail in greeting, though the tip had a bit of blood caked onto it.

"Pinekit! Why aren't you in the nursery?" Goldwing asked.

"I wanted to see you return," Pinekit said with a twinge of annoyance. If Weedpaw could go anywhere he wanted, Pinekit should have been able to also. Why did every cat meet him with that kind of response—it wasn't like he was expected to be in the nursery all day, was he? "You didn't wake me up to take me with you to the battle. I wanted to go, and I could have helped."

For some reason, seeing all the warriors coming home injured didn't scare him away from the thought of fighting. He'd hurt himself before, of course—once he'd wrenched a claw from trying to climb the nursery wall—but a little bit of pain for this kind of reward seemed worth it. The other warriors seemed happy, and Pinekit could make Goldwing proud.

"You'll be fighting in no time," Goldwing said. His voice sounded less enthusiastic than Pinekit would have expected.

Out of all the cats, Goldwing had the least amount of victory high. Pinekit saw exhaustion and worry in his father's eyes, though he didn't know why. He wasn't even sure if he could properly ask. It could have just been his imagination—he was just a kit, after all, and didn't know much compared to the warriors.

Goldwing started toward the nursery. "Let's get you back to your mother. She'll want to hear about the battle anyway."

Pinekit turned his head to find Sweetbriar halfway out of the nursery already, her head turning from side to side as she swept her gaze across the group of cats. "The other warriors seem happy about this," Pinekit said, watching his father's expression change to surprise. "Why aren't you?"

"I—" Goldwing paused. "I don't think you'd understand."

He could see no harm in listening. "Tell me anyway?"

Goldwing stood there for a moment, then turned toward the nursery and began walking. Pinekit kept up with him, looking to his father with expectant eyes. Goldwing seemed to battle the thoughts inside his head before mewing in a low voice, "I stopped Patchsong from killing a WindClan apprentice. You know what happened to Sunpaw, right?"

"WindClan killed him," Pinekit said. He knew that much. "Why did you stop her? Wouldn't it be fair?"

"I didn't think so," he said. "But I think she might have it out for me now. She's always meowing in one of Sweetbriar's ears. What if—" He abruptly stopped, both in motion and in voice. "Nevermind, Pinekit. We won the battle—that's what's important. When you become a warrior, the greatest gift you can give to your clan is to fight tooth and nail for it. And the most honorable way to die is by fighting for your clan."

They reached Sweetbriar, who bombarded Goldwing with a whirlwind of questions. Pinekit slipped back into the nursery, settling down in the moss beside Redkit to think. When would he get to go on a battle raid and defend his clan? And would he come home looking like one of the other cats, or like Goldwing?

Pinekit turned his head toward Redkit, expecting to find his brother asleep, but his littermate's yellow eyes stared back at him. "Did you hear about the battle?" Pinekit asked, seized with the desire to speak to his brother for the first time in what felt like sunrises.

Redkit blinked his eyes sleepily, then lowered his head to the ground, tail curling past his nose. "I don't care. They're being loud, it's making it hard for me to sleep."

Pinekit's expression tightened—why did he bother? Oh well, if his brother didn't want to speak about the battle, Pinekit could occupy himself in other ways. From where he lay, he watched the strain on Goldwing's face intensify as he answered Sweetbriar's questions. Then, from behind him, Patchsong approached, and Goldwing turned away from the two, leaving them to discuss the battle alone.

Pinekit felt an itch in his paws to follow his father, but stayed where he was, watching Patchsong. The calico's eyes burned with rage and retribution, and with the shadowy lighting of the nursery, made her seem almost frightening to behold. It seemed there was more blood on her fur than the scratch on her side merited. Even her white-furred paws were soaked in it—blood that had to belong to WindClan cats.

Had he not known better, Pinekit would have sworn that she was from ShadowClan.

* * *

><p><strong>Note: Every time you review, I take a shot of my new gold Patron. Writing gets better with tequila, doesn't it?<strong>


	3. The Siren's Song

Pinestar's Choice  
><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

Pinekit paced just inside the nursery, his ears twitching. When would Foxstar call the Clan meeting? The kit, who had grown rather large, had counted down to this day for the last three moons! For the past week he'd hardly had a wink of sleep, much to Sweetbriar and Redkit's dismay. Even Goldwing had stopped by and told him to get some rest or he'd fall asleep on his paws during his apprentice naming ceremony.

With a surge of excitement, Pinekit spotted Foxstar jumping down from his den. That must have meant he'd announce Pinekit and Redkit's apprentice names, right? With his muscles tight, Pinekit waited for the dark brown tom to jump onto the High Rock and start the meeting. Any second now…

Redkit crept up behind Pinekit. While the flame-red kit was still smaller than Pinekit, he'd kicked his habit of sleeping all day, deciding instead to rest and watch Pinekit play in the moss—which, in all honesty, wasn't much of an improvement. He still smelled different from Pinekit and Goldwing, though, something Pinekit didn't understand.

The bright red kit flicked his tail. "If you could choose your mentor, who would you pick?"

A name immediately came to Pinekit's mind: _Goldwing_. But no cat ever mentored his or her own kits. It wasn't against the Warrior code, but Pinekit had asked Frostpelt—the new queen who'd moved into the nursery expecting kits—whether Goldwing could mentor him. She'd said no Clan cat had ever heard of such a thing.

"I don't know," Pinekit said. In the past moon, Leopardear had been very kind to him, but he didn't think he was important enough to demand the deputy's attention. She must have had other things to deal with. "Maybe Copperfall? He's a really good fighter."

"I thought you didn't like Copperfall?"

Pinekit knew what Redkit meant—he'd spent many sunrises complaining about how Copperfall had snapped at him right before the attack on WindClan. The big brown tom had scared him, but he'd been coming by the nursery ever since his mate Frostpelt knew she had kits on the way. He was much more civil now.

"He's okay. Goldwing said he'd join the elders soon though," Pinekit grumbled. "Maybe he won't want another apprentice."

"Kits, you know I can hear you chattering over there, right?" Frostpelt hissed. She was curled up near the back of the nursery and _huge_ around the middle. Pinekit thought if he jumped on her belly the kits would come flying out. She'd grown more and more nasty-tempered since nearing her kitting.

"Let's go outside," Pinekit whispered.

Redkit nodded. "I don't want her clawing my tail off again."

"Kits! I can _hear_ you!"

The two brothers slipped out of the nursery. Pinekit took the opportunity to look around again and gauge where Foxstar was. The High Rock was still empty, though he spotted Leopardear inspecting the fresh-kill pile. Perhaps she would be able to find Foxstar and start the ceremony?

Redkit lay down, setting his head between his paws. "Do you think we _have_ to fight if we become apprentices?"

Pinekit looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"I don't like the thought. The warriors always come back injured after a fight. I don't want to get hurt—and don't other cats feel the same way? Why do they fight at all?"

"I want to fight." Pinekit licked his paw. "I bet you they don't even notice the pain when they're fighting. It's about protecting your Clan and sending the enemy running."

Leopardear's tail lifted as she walked toward the two kits. Pinekit found himself shaking as she approached from sheer excitement. Did the clan deputy have something to say to him? Like, would she tell Foxstar to make him into a warrior immediately? "Aren't you two six moons today?" she asked, sitting down in front of them.

"We are!" Pinekit squeaked. "Where's Foxstar? I've been waiting for my ceremony all day!"

She purred. "Might as well not keep two excited kits waiting. I'll find him for you—I think he's in his den."

"Will you? Oh, thank you, Leopardear!" Pinekit squealed. He glanced to Redkit, expecting the same excitement from his littermate, but his brother's head was bowed and he was inspecting his front two paws.

The brown and black spotted deputy dipped her head to the two kits, then moved toward Foxstar's den. Pinekit paced, excitement building up beneath his fur. He wanted his –paw name so badly! He was tired of being called a kit when he was already the size of Weedpaw and Larkpaw. No, he was bigger than Larkpaw now!

Redkit watched Pinekit. "If you keep doing that, you're not going to be able to stay still for the ceremony and the other cats will laugh at you. Try to calm down!"

"I am calm!" Pinekit said. "Where's Goldwing?"

Sweetbriar slipped out from the nursery, stretching. "He went hunting. Oh, he's going to be so sad if he misses your ceremony! I hope Foxstar holds off on naming you two so that the patrol comes back."

Pinekit felt irritation crackling in his stomach. He wanted his naming ceremony to come _now_, but not at the expense of having Goldwing miss it. But he saw Leopardear's tail disappear into Foxstar's den and wondered if there was a chance Goldwing would miss it anyway. He looked toward his mother; Sweetbriar was looking toward the camp entrance, as if wishing that the patrol would come through the thorn tunnel at any moment.

He crouched low to the ground, tail curling around his body. He felt like he might burst, waiting here staring at Foxstar's den and waiting for any ripple in the moss covering its entrance. When would the two cats emerge? And would Goldwing get back in time? He looked around the camp, anxiety spiking. How many cats were on the hunting patrol, anyway? Would _anyone_ be around to see his naming ceremony? The hollow felt so empty.

A flash of brown fur leaving the leader's den caught Pinekit's attention. He sat straight up as Foxstar padded out, then made his way toward the high rock. Leopardear followed after him, lingering at the base of the rock and looking out over the camp. The fox-tailed leader leapt onto the rock then turned to face the camp.

_No, _Pinekit thought. _You can't go on without Goldwing!_

"All cats who can catch their own prey, gather beneath the High Rock for a Clan meeting!"

Redkit stared at Pinekit with surprise. "Why do you look so unhappy? Just a moment ago you were bursting out of your fur!"

Pinekit didn't respond to him, instead looking around as cats slipped from their hiding places. Copperfall, Cloudeye, and Patchsong padded from the warrior's den, and Shadeflood poked his head out from the medicine cat's den and moved over to join the growing throng of cats. His expression was serious, almost lost in thought, and most of his fur had grown mangy, making other cats hiss as he approached. Creekvine and Graysnow, the elders, sat down outside their den and watched Foxstar, their ears pricked.

Those were all the cats who would be watching? Pinekit barely bit back a yowl of despair. It seemed like every cat had been around when Larkpaw and Weedpaw were made apprentices. The two weren't even here to watch _him_ become one. They must have been out hunting too, or patrolling the borders.

Foxstar glanced over the cats in the congregation. "Cats of ThunderClan, it is a great display of our growing strength that we are able to name two new apprentices."

Pinekit almost took a step forward but then found himself caught in Sweetbriar's clutches as she gave him a few extra licks for good measure. He hissed and tried swatting her away, but she only held onto him tighter, smoothing down his fur and making it sleek and glossy. Beside him, he noticed Redkit's fur looked groomed—so that explained why he hadn't said much in the last couple minutes.

The leader turned toward the two kits just as Sweetbriar finished and let Pinekit go. Pinekit leapt to his feet, quivering and waiting for Foxstar to call him forward. "Pinekit and Redkit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Pinepaw and Redpaw."

Pinepaw's ears twitched back. This wasn't how he'd expected it to go. He'd expected all the cats to burst into cheers upon Foxstar's bestowing of his name, and for Goldwing's voice to be the loudest. The silence was more deafening than the loudest screeches.

"Pinepaw," Foxstar said, catching the apprentice's attention, "Your mentor will be Patchsong."

Pinepaw felt his blood run cold.

"I hope Patchsong will pass down all that she knows to you." The leader turned to face Patchsong, who strode toward him and stopped at the base of the rock. Ambition flared in her bright green eyes, and Pinepaw realized her claws were partially out. "Patchsong, you are ready to take on an apprentice. You have shown yourself to be loyal and brave. You will be the mentor of Pinepaw, and expect you to pass on all you know to Pinepaw."

As Pinepaw forced himself forward to touch noses with Patchsong, he spotted Goldwing slipping through the thorn entrance with Darkbreeze, Larkpaw, and Weedpaw. The two apprentices stopped cold, watching the ceremony from where they stood, whereas Goldwing broke into a run so he could settle next to Sweetbriar, his whiskers bristling with pride.

_But you missed the most important part! _Pinepaw wanted to cry out. He reached Patchsong, who looked at him expectantly with her sharp green eyes. Swallowing back bile, Pinepaw leaned forward and touched his nose to hers, fighting back the shiver that traveled down his spine and caused his tail to twitch.

The other cats broke into a cheerful yell: "Pinepaw! Pinepaw!"

He heard Goldwing's voice among the other cats', but it wasn't as loud as he would have expected. Pinepaw turned his head to find Goldwing's expression but found himself lingering on Shadeflood's. The gray and black tom stared at Pinepaw and Patchsong with worry in his eyes, his tail curling down. What did that mean? Did StarClan disapprove with Foxstar's choice of mentor? Or had Patchsong asked for her sister's son as an apprentice?

Foxstar continued, "Redpaw! Your mentor will be Cloudeye." The red tom looked up at the mention of his name, but Cloudeye didn't look surprised. "Cloudeye, you are intelligent and wise. I know you'll pass those qualities on to Redpaw, as you did with Darkbreeze."

"Redpaw! Redpaw!" The clan shouted. Pinepaw found himself frozen, unable to open his jaw to cry his brother's name.

Goldwing padded over after Foxstar jumped down from the high rock. "Kits! Oh—you're not kits anymore—you're apprentices now! Congratulations! I couldn't have picked better mentors for either of you."

Something about his voice seemed off, as if he were unhappy or hadn't expected Foxstar's choice of mentors. At least Pinepaw wasn't the only one.

Sweetbriar regarded Patchsong with pride. "I'm so happy you're mentoring one of my kits. I'd asked Foxstar if he'd consider letting you, but I didn't know if he'd allow it."

"Why wouldn't he?" Patchsong said smoothly. "I have much to teach him."

Pinepaw wasn't certain he wanted to learn anything from a cat that wanted to run WindClan out of the forest, but he dipped his head politely anyway. It was better if he stayed respectful for his mentor—after all, she'd be teaching him, and he couldn't become a warrior without her recommendation. "I can't wait for battle training."

"There will be plenty of battle training," she said, her claws sliding out and gripping the ground. "You'll be one of the finest warriors the clan has ever seen."

Cloudeye padded over with Redpaw. "I can see a great hunter in this little guy," the gray tom said, prodding Redpaw's side with one paw. Redpaw sat down and tried to look small. "I bet all of you the clan's fresh-kill pile will start overflowing once I teach him a thing or two about hunting. He looks lithe and fast, the perfect hunter."

"I've never hunted anything in my life," Redpaw said modestly, lowering his head a bit. "You can't say that without me trying first and seeing if I _am_ good at it, looks or not."

The gray tom purred. "Good point. Let's hope you're not like your father."

"Hey!" Goldwing said. "Are you _still_ harping on me for that one time I stumbled into a rabbit den?"

"How could any cat forget? You can't fall onto eight rabbits and not catch one!" Despite the light teasing, there was nothing but camaraderie and happiness in the two cats' eyes. "You're lucky no cat from WindClan heard about that, or they'd have called you Rabbit-sit instead of your name."

Immediately, the lighthearted atmosphere died as Patchsong narrowed her eyes into slits and broke into a growl. Cloudeye pulled back, confusion evident in his eyes until he realized what he'd said. "Patchsong, I didn't mean to—"

"Never mind it," she said curtly. "While you sit here chattering, I have an apprentice to teach. Pinepaw, let's go to the training hollow."

Pinepaw sat up straight again. "What, already?"

"You want to learn battle moves, don't you? There's no better time than now." She shot a dark look at Cloudeye, though Pinepaw noticed some of it had been aimed at Goldwing.

In what seemed like an attempt to recover a civil relationship, Cloudeye said, "Patchsong, how about I take Redpaw with me and we'll train the apprentices together? Two cats are always better than one."

The dark look on Patchsong's face didn't ease up, and the two cats faced each other in silence for seconds. Finally, Redpaw stepped forward and said, "It's okay, Cloudeye. I'd rather learn how to hunt right now. Or maybe you'd like me to tend to the elders? Last I heard, Weedpaw and Larkpaw were neglecting them a bit and there was a thorn in Graysnow's bedding."

"Oh, I heard about that," Sweetbriar said, a little too loudly—a tell for when she felt awkward, Pinepaw had noticed. She had stayed quiet the whole time that Patchsong had snapped at the two tom cats. "She made _such_ a huge stink about it. I even heard she took a snap at Weedpaw's tail when he tried changing out the bedding later on. Called him a lazy apprentice, she did."

Patchsong lashed her tail. "Apprentices _should_ take care of the elders better. I'll make sure that Pinepaw is always at their service." She turned and padded away from the group, calling back over her shoulder, "But right now I'm going to be taking him for training. Come, Pinepaw!"

Pinepaw stole a glance from Goldwing, who looked like he sympathized with his son. Pinepaw struggled to keep his whiskers up as he turned to follow his new mentor, bidding his family goodbye as he left them. Up ahead, the calico pushed through the thorn tunnel, and Pinepaw felt some of his unhappiness drain as he thought about how she'd take him around the territory and explain the boundaries. He'd wanted to leave the camp for as long as he could remember, and now he finally could.

His enthusiasm was quickly shot down by the sight of Shadeflood lingering around the camp entrance. He flinched back from Patchsong as she passed, his eyes wide and fixed on Pinepaw. Pinepaw hesitated, looking back at Shadeflood, unsure what the medicine cat was seeing or whether something had bothered him.

"Pinepaw," the old medicine cat murmured. His eyes grew fever-bright. "_Until a blue moon rises, a great tree must stand strong in the devastating wake of the siren's song."_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Here's a spoiler to keep you interested<strong>: did you know a cat can get pregnant as young as five moons?_

_Drama's about to go down._


	4. The Dark Vision

Pinestar's Choice  
><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

_Until a blue moon rises, a great tree must stand strong in the devastating wake of the siren's song._

Pinepaw followed Patchsong in silence as she led him across the ThunderClan territory, pointing out the borders. Despite his excitement for this moment—after all, it was the first time he'd ever left the camp—Pinepaw couldn't focus. Shadeflood's ominous warning echoed in his ears and made his paws prick with fear and confusion. What had the old medicine cat meant, and why had he told Pinepaw instead of the clan leader, or some other cat?

A paw cuffed him around the ears, making Pinepaw squeak and jump. "You're expected to listen when your mentor speaks to you," Patchsong said with a sickly sweet meow. "We've just reached the RiverClan border. Get to know it closely, because this clan is always pushing the warrior code, and you'll have to set their cats straight."

Pinepaw stood beside the Sunning Rocks, staring out across the river. It flowed and ebbed with great ferocity, and he found himself severely unwilling to ever cross it, even if his leader ordered him to attack RiverClan. He hadn't ever met a RiverClan cat anyway, but with how their fish-like oily scent drifted up his nostrils and burned, he figured they couldn't be very good cats anyway.

Patchsong waved her tail at the rocks. "This is Sunning Rocks. RiverClan is constantly trying to take this part of our territory from ThunderClan." Her eyes narrowed. "Last time they tried, we set them straight. RiverClan may be strong with their constant source of fish, but ThunderClan will always be stronger."

Pinepaw stole a glance at the water again. How could a cat drink from there? He feared the thought of falling in! "What does a fish look like, anyway?"

"Here, I'll show you."

She moved toward the edge of the river. Pinepaw stayed where he was, mouth gaping slightly as he watched her. What if she fell in? Would he be able to run back to the camp and get help in time? This was all too much for one apprentice to handle.

"Pinepaw," she said. "Do you want a see a fish, or not? If not, we should get over to the ShadowClan border so I can show you that. The sun doesn't stay up forever."

He forced his paws to move with one thought in mind—a warrior wouldn't be afraid of water. If the RiverClan cats could handle it, he could too. He came to a stop at the edge and leaned forward, anxiously aware of how he placed his weight on his paws. From the corner of his eye he saw Patchsong eyeing him with what seemed like darkness in her eyes. He tensed his muscles, imagining her swinging a paw and pushing him in.

Inside the clear water, tiny silver shapes darted around. Pinepaw lifted one of his paws without thinking, as if he wanted to dab at them. He took a tentative step back, but still kept his gaze on the little forms. One of them flicked toward the surface of the water, causing a tiny circle to disturb its surface.

"How do RiverClan cats even eat those things?" Pinepaw asked, forcing his paw back onto the ground. It was the instinct of a kit that made him want to stick his paw in the water, but he wouldn't act like a kit around his mentor. "They're so small. They couldn't keep a cat full."

"They hunt for larger ones," Patchsong said. "Let's head toward ShadowClan's border now."

Both cats moved north, where the river branched out into two smaller portions. Here, Pinepaw could see how cats could dip moss for water in it. The water flowed slowly, inching in a depression about a paw deep. He approached the water and took a few drinks before hurrying up to follow Patchsong.

A massive tree took up the space in front of them. Patchsong paused in its presence, her ears flicking back. Pinepaw saw her pelt bristle, but he didn't know what had caused that reaction in his mentor. The tree itself seemed non-threatening, though he could hear the faint rustle of birds in its trunk.

"What's wrong?" he asked, unsure if he should. This was so awkward—he'd imagined his first trek through the forest as being more relaxed and full of adventure. With Patchsong, he felt too afraid to ask the most basic questions, though she hadn't acted openly aggressive toward him. It was the medicine cat's words in his ears that made him so tentative, though he didn't understand them. Did the _"siren's song"_ have to do with her?

"This is the Owl Tree," she growled. "Let me show you something."

He didn't know whether he wanted to follow her, but the way she moved suggested he should. She padded toward the left, where the trees started to thin out. Pinepaw glanced around, feeling apprehension surging through his pelt. Then, to his surprise, they reached a path of matted down dirt. He sniffed at it; the ThunderClan markers were strong here, though overpowered by an acrid, nasty taste that made him jerk back with a hiss. Was this the border with ShadowClan?

"This is a small Thunderpath, a different one from the other I'll show you later. If you go north from here, you'll reach Four Trees," Patchsong said. She looked like she wanted to say more, but she was staring across the dirt Thunderpath with a shadow over her eyes.

Pinepaw followed her gaze, but he could see nothing but sparse forest overtaken by thick grasslands. Every so often he could see a large rock jutting from the earth, but he wasn't sure what would have caused that reaction in Patchsong.

"Across this Thunderpath is WindClan," she said with a growl.

The land past the Thunderpath seemed colored differently now, as if the shadows had grown deeper and the color had been sucked from it. Pinepaw's senses heightened, as if he were trying to seek out the taste of Sunpaw's blood on the grass below. The acrid taste of the Thunderpath was like blood in his mouth, and it choked him, settling in his lungs like dark water. This is where the skirmish must have happened.

He had only seen Sunpaw a handful of times when he was a kit. The apprentice had been a golden tabby, and Patchsong's only surviving kit. He remembered Sweetbriar speaking about how Patchsong had kitted three, but only one had survived the night as her milk hadn't come until two days later. Even Sunpaw had been a little weak, and when he'd been apprenticed, he was a little smaller than normal.

A hiss startled him, and he found Patchsong glaring at him. "Let's move," she said. "We still have the ShadowClan border to view."

The two moved down the length of ShadowClan's border, and by the time they finished Pinepaw was exhausted. His paws felt heavy and slow. Though he'd tried to keep in pace behind Patchsong as they'd moved back through the forest, he'd fallen behind a few times, enough that she would come to a halt and stare at him as he struggled to catch up. There was no hiss, no yelling, just that cold stare. It was worse than a reprimand.

The sight of the camp was a welcome one. Pinepaw moved through the thorn barrier with more conviction, intent on heading to his new nest in the apprentice den for a nice sleep. When he had moved halfway through the camp, though, he realized every cat was on edge. Copperfall paced outside the nursery, his fur on end, and both the elders were outside their den with their gaze focused on him.

"If he doesn't slow down, he's going to fall asleep before the kits come," Creekvine meowed, leaning forward as if to hear the faint voices in the nursery better.

Kits! Pinepaw felt a small burst of energy. A yowl suddenly ripped from within the nursery, sending Copperfall screeching and jumping about a foot into the air. Immediately after he hit the ground, he shoved his head into the entrance. "Frostpelt! Is she okay?"

"Of course I'm not okay!" Frostpelt's pain-filled meow snapped back. "I'm having your kits! Get out of here, Copperfall! This is all your fault!"

Pinepaw bristled, then his fur smoothed down as amusement washed over him. Larkpaw padded up beside him with a squirrel in her mouth. She dropped it and sat down. "With all that commotion, I don't think I ever want to have kits."

He shuddered. "No kidding, huh?"

She gave him a funny look. "You're a tom cat, you can't have kits."

"I mean, I don't think I'd want to have kits at all—not that I'd have them myself. Look at Copperfall, he's so stressed! I bet you he could jump twenty feet in the air if Frostpelt yowled any louder. I don't want to have to be like that, waiting for kits." The thought of having kits felt weird anyway. He was barely more than a kit himself, though he did feel a surge of excitement at the thought of new faces entering ThunderClan—he just didn't want them to be _his_.

Larkpaw purred. "Did you manage to hunt anything today?"

Pinepaw was abruptly made aware of his hunger. His belly growled in response to Larkpaw's question. "Oh, no. Patchsong just showed me the borders."

"Do you want to share this squirrel?"

He eyed it suspiciously, as if it might jump up and bite him. It was unusual for Larkpaw to treat him as any more than a joke or an annoyance. Maybe it was a squirrel meant for the elders, and Larkpaw was trying to get him in trouble? But many of the other cats had seen it in her jaws. Was she trying to be nice?

Larkpaw playfully swatted at him with one paw. "Don't look at it like that! What do you think I'm doing, trying to poison you? You're my den mate now so we might as well start getting along. Besides, I don't want to have Patchsong on my tail for being mean to you."

He could agree with that. "I don't think _any_ cat wants Patchsong on their tail. But, uh, okay. Thanks." He crouched down and took a bite of the squirrel. It tasted wonderful, full of so many unique forest flavors, like the scents he'd caught when moving through the forest with his mentor.

Larkpaw watched as he devoured half the squirrel. Though he was still hungry, he stopped eating and pushed it toward her with one paw. "Here. Thanks again."

"Pinepaw, did you ensure the elders got their share first?"

The red-brown apprentice whirled around, finding Patchsong standing behind him with a disapproving look on her face. "No—sorry! Should I take a piece of prey to them?" The elders didn't even _look_ hungry. They were chattering with each other, watching Copperfall make a fool out of himself as he hissed and paced.

Patchsong dipped her head. "Yes, and get moving. They might like you better if you're prompt in offering them fresh-kill."

Pinepaw dashed over toward the fresh-kill pile, which was well stocked, a typical thing in leaf-green. He picked up what looked like the plumpest piece of prey—a rabbit, something ThunderClan cats didn't catch often—and hurried toward the elders with it. As he approached, their critical gazes turned on him, and he felt heat flushing beneath his pelt. Were they going to say something about him eating before presenting food to them?

"What's this?" Graysnow meowed. "Who caught a rabbit? It couldn't have been you, hm?"

Pinepaw dropped the rabbit in front of them. "Oh, no. I'm not sure who caught it."

"I think it might have been Cloudeye or Redpaw," Creekvine said. "He took your littermate hunting and said Redpaw caught something."

"Can you imagine a cat that small catching this rabbit?" Graysnow meowed, prodding at it with one claw. "This rabbit's as big as him!"

Pinepaw felt a rush of jealousy pass through his fur. Had Redpaw really caught something already? His paws prickled with the urge to show the clan he could catch prey too, but Patchsong had moved toward the warriors' den and crouched just outside the entrance, her gaze on the nursery. He didn't dare go over and bother her, as the pain in her eyes was so obvious that it might as well have changed her eye color.

"I remember my first litter," Graysnow meowed reminiscently.

"Cloudeye's a great warrior," Creekvine said. "And your other kits served their clan well."

Graysnow nodded, her eyes clouded with grief. "I can't help but worry that something with happen to Cloudeye, or I'll join StarClan before I get to see any kits from him. It's been so many moons since Stormclaw and Stonebreeze passed, but he still seems so affected."

Pinepaw backed away from the rabbit, feeling he didn't belong in the conversation. It was bad enough that he was feeling so jealous about Redpaw's success—he should have been happy for his brother, not wishing he could do better. He looked around the clearing in hopes of finding his flame-red littermate, but he didn't spot a single hair on his pelt, nor did he see Cloudeye. Maybe the two of them were still out hunting. Pinepaw tensed and looked toward Patchsong again. He'd get the chance to prove himself eventually.

"_Copperfall!_" Frostpelt yowled. "Where are you? I'm having your kits! Get in here!"

The confused, stricken look on the rusty brown tom's face made Pinepaw's whiskers twitch with amusement. Copperfall moved back into the nursery, and Pinepaw heard another pained screech from Frostpelt. He moved closer to the nursery, enough that he could look inside, and found Shadeflood crouched beside white queen. Frostpelt's claws dug into the moss, and her jaws parted in a silent yowl.

"What should I do?"Copperfall asked. "Does she need water?"

"No," Shadeflood said, his paws palpating her flank. "The kits are coming right now—try to relax, you're here to help her." He ran a soothing paw down Frostpelt's fur. "Push! One is coming out!"

Pinepaw watched with awe as a tiny gray bundle plopped onto the floor, the sound of it hitting the moss wet and squishy. Shadeflood took the tiny kit in his mouth and cleaned it off; it was bright ginger, almost reminding him of his brother. He passed the kit to Frostpelt, who began licking its fur in the opposite direction.

A flood of some strange emotion passed over Pinepaw. For a moment his vision blacked out, and when it came back, the nursery no longer held the white queen in it. Instead, he saw a jet-black cat laying there, her mouth open in a silent scream. A small brown tabby lay in the moss beside her, yellow eyes staring back at Pinepaw. Before Pinepaw could react to what was happening, the nursery began to fill with blood, the dark red liquid staining the moss. He tried to take a step back but found himself frozen, then watched as the black queen drowned in the sticky liquid as the tiny tom watched, seemingly untouched by the blood.

A yowl snapped him back to reality, and he saw only Frostpelt and Shadeflood in the den. A second bundle was exiting her, this one pale silver. Pinepaw narrowed his eyes; why did he have that vision, and what did it mean? He wanted to ask Shadeflood, but the medicine cat was clearly busy with the incoming arrivals to ThunderClan.

With one last screech, Frostpelt pushed out a final kit, this one brown like his father. The three kits curled up at Frostpelt's belly, searching for milk, as Frostpelt gasped, her eyes half-closed and her flank heaving from exhaustion.

Shadeflood ran his paws down her sides. "Let me check, there might still be kits in you."

"I don't think so," she said, leaning down to sniff at the tiny scraps of fur at her belly. "They're all toms."

Copperfall beamed, tearing up the moss beneath his paws. "What do you want to name them?"

"I'll call this one Sunkit," she said, touching her nose to the ginger kit's head. "In memory of Sunpaw."

He nodded. "The rest of the Clan will like that."

She touched the silvery tom. "And this one will be Featherkit." Last, she touched the brown tom. "And this one, Mumblekit."

"They're all great names." Shadeflood looked over the kits as Copperfall moved to join Frostpelt's side, the nursery echoing his loud purrs. "I'll get you some herbs to help stimulate your milk," he said, padding toward the nursery entrance. "Let me know if you need me. They all look very healthy, and I know they'll be great warriors for the clan."

"Thank you, Shadeflood," Frostpelt meowed, her eyes dull with exhaustion. It was the first time that Pinepaw had ever seen anyone actually look thankful for the scruffy medicine cat.

Pinepaw moved out of the way as Shadeflood exited the nursery. The apprentice paused by the entrance, tempted to follow the medicine cat and ask him about the vision he'd seen inside the nursery. Would he brush Pinepaw off as a silly apprentice trying to get attention from a busy cat? Maybe he was better off not telling him.

Something nagged deep in his stomach, causing nausea to flood through him. There were no black cats in ThunderClan. Who was the queen from his vision, and why had there been so much blood?

* * *

><p>Do you guys know the answer to his question? ;)<p> 


	5. Larkpaw's Secret

**Pinestar's Choice**  
><em>Chapter 5<em>

A moon had passed since Pinepaw became an apprentice, and he'd learned much in the short amount of time. He didn't have hunting down perfectly, though he chalked that up to Patchsong spending most of her training time teaching him battle moves in the sandy hollow. By this point, he swore most of the pawprints in the hollow belonged to him.

Cloudeye and Redpaw had joined them this morning, much to Pinepaw's delight. For a while he'd grown suspicious that Patchsong didn't want him training with his littermate, as whenever Cloudeye or Redpaw made the suggestion that they train alongside each other, Patchsong would shake her head and say that Pinepaw would learn better one on one. Pinepaw felt that having Redpaw around made him strive to better himself. It wasn't all about avoiding Patchsong's intimidation.

Across the hollow from him, Redpaw dropped into a crouch, his yellow eyes narrowed. "Try and attack me," he said, then quickly amended, "But keep your claws in last time! When you got me last time, they were out, and it hurt!"

Patchsong bristled. "Do you think the cats of other Clans will keep their claws in when fighting you for real?"

Redpaw took a step back, ears folding back. "Well, no, but we're just training."

"There's no need to have claws out in apprentice training," Cloudeye said, sitting along the edge of the hollow. "It's true that some warriors like to practice with their claws out to keep their battle techniques strong, but you two are far too young for that yet."

"You shouldn't learn to fight while being afraid of another cat's claws," Patchsong said with a growl in her voice. "You'll go into your next fight scared of pain. They should get used to it while they're still young, and they'll be more capable fighters."

"I respect how you want to train your apprentice," the light gray warrior said calmly, "But please keep mine out of it. And I'd suggest that you let Foxstar know if you plan on training Pinepaw in such a taboo way."

"My mentor trained me that way without Foxstar's permission," Patchsong said coldly. "If Darkbreeze had trained Sunpaw like that, my kit might not have joined StarClan."

Cloudeye didn't reply to that, simply flicked his ears at the uncomfortable subject, but there was a silent sense of anxiety pulsing through the hollow. Pinepaw's tail twitched from side to side. Who was Patchsong's mentor? None of the current Warriors had ever mentioned mentoring her, and neither had the elders. Had her mentor died many moons before Pinepaw was born?

Before he could continue thinking about it, Redpaw pounced at him. Pinepaw hissed, completely caught by surprise as Redpaw clung to his back, his tiny needle-like teeth nipping at the fur of his neck. He flopped over onto his back, hearing Redpaw grunt as the air whooshed from his lungs. Pinepaw scrambled around, then knocked Redpaw's paws out from under him as he struggled back onto his feet.

"Good," Patchsong said, shooting a look at Cloudeye. "While I don't like the fact that you were sitting there with your head in StarClan, at least you managed to recover properly."

Redpaw rolled onto his feet and looked to Cloudeye for a reprimand, but the gray warrior nodded his head and said, "You did well. You'll eventually learn to anticipate when a cat plans on throwing itself on its back by the way the weight shifts onto their hind legs. That'll give you a cue to get off."

They continued with the practice until Pinepaw could barely manage to stand on his four legs anymore. Redpaw sat down hard with a long purr. "That was a great training session," he said. "It feels like with each one, I'm getting stronger."

"You are getting stronger," Cloudeye said, touching his apprentice on the shoulder with his tail. "Let's go hunt. After we bring back the fresh-kill, if there's enough for the Clan, we'll both eat. How does that sound?"

Redpaw sprang to his paws. "That sounds great!" He looked over to Pinepaw. "Are you coming?"

Pinepaw glanced over to Patchsong. She was sitting with her shoulders hunched, eyes glazed. He didn't know what she was thinking about, but he could guess—she'd done this before. This was the first time she'd mentioned Sunpaw since the attack on WindClan's camp. She hadn't even spoken much about the battle, at least not to him. He'd tried asking, but she'd brushed him off, so he figured it wasn't worth trying again.

"I don't think it's the right time," Pinepaw said. Redpaw flicked his tail, then padded after Cloudeye, who had already vanished into the brush.

Pinepaw sat in the dust, his breathing coming normally for the first time since the training had started. He watched Patchsong, expecting her to snap out of her gaze and order him around to do something, but the longer he watched, the more he wondered just how far gone she was. Hesitantly, he padded toward her. "Patchsong?"

Her gaze cleared. "Go back to the camp," she said, not even acknowledging the fact that she'd been gone for the last few minutes. "Go see if the elders need their bedding changed, or if anyone needs ticks removed."

That was odd. It was like she hadn't even realized she'd zoned out. It wasn't smart for him to question Patchsong though, so he dipped his head and started in the direction of the camp. Once or twice, he looked over his shoulder to see if she was following him, but each time he looked, she was still in that scrunched up sitting position, staring out at something only she could see.

Oh well. He wasn't a medicine cat, so if there was something wrong with Patchsong, there wasn't anything he could do about it. He reached the thorn barrier of the camp entrance and ducked inside, looking around to see who was active in the camp. Maybe after he was done checking up on the elders, he could see if Goldwing and Sweetbriar wanted to share tongues with him. He missed them, especially his father.

A tiny bundle whirled out of the nursery as he passed it, slamming straight into Pinepaw's side. He let out a yowl of surprise, twisting around to find a tiny bright ginger tom, Sunkit, facing him.

The tom's whiskers twitched. "Don't tell my mother I'm out here. She said I can't leave the nest until I'm a moon and a half old. I'm only a few sunrises away from that, though!"

"Oh really?" Pinepaw purred, swatting at the little tom gently. The kit squealed and pounced on his paw. Pinepaw could hardly believe it—had he really been this small not too long ago? It felt like ages, as this kit couldn't have opened his eyes very long ago, but to the Clan cats, his own life must have been like a sunrise and a sunset.

He looked past the ginger fur to see two sets of small eyes watching him from inside the nursery entrance. That must have been Featherkit and Mumblekit. He waved his tail in greeting to them, but they ducked back inside with a squeak of surprise.

Sunkit's chest heaved with the effort of catching Pinepaw's tail, then he stopped. "What's your name?" the little kit asked. "I don't recognize you."

"It's Pinepaw," he said. "I remember when you were born."

The ginger kit cocked his head to the side. "What was it like?"

"Gooey!" Pinepaw said with a mrrow of amusement, then stood. "I'd love to stay and play, but I have to take care of the elders. When you become an apprentice, you'll get to take care of the elders too. A lot of cats say they're mean, but they're not, so don't worry. You'll like the elders."

Sunkit bounced around him. "When I'm an apprentice, I'll be the best at helping the elders!"

"Sunkit!" called Frostpelt. "Where are you?"

The kit's ears flicked backward. "Oh, that's my mother," he said. "She must not understand how important it is to look after the elders. If she did, she'd let me come with you and help out!"

"Oh, don't worry," Pinepaw said. "When you're old enough, you'll spend plenty of time with them. Now go on, before she bites off both our tails."

Sunkit's tail stuck straight in the air, and he squeaked, turning around and darting back into the nursery. Pinepaw shook his head with amusement, then headed toward the elder's den. When Patchsong had said her apprentice would take care of the elders well, she wasn't joking. Pinepaw felt his time was split between battle training and helping the elders with little time to hunt, share tongues, or sleep!

He passed Larkpaw, who was picking at the fresh-kill pile. Her whiskers seemed drooped, and she crouched beside a small mouse, taking a half-hearted bite from the tiny creature. Pinepaw's fur prickled as he approached her, head tilted slightly. "What's wrong?" he asked. "You look sad."

Her eyes lit with surprise as he approached, and she jumped back from the mouse. "What?" she asked, scuffing the ground with her paws. "Nothing's wrong. Don't worry."

He sat down beside her, knowing that helping his Clan mates was as important as taking care of the elders. They wouldn't mind waiting a few minutes more. "Do you feel sick? If you do, Shadeflood might have something to help you feel better."

Her eyes narrowed and she emitted a soft hiss. "No, I'm not going anywhere near Shadeflood."

Pinepaw looked at her, shocked. "Why? Did he do something?"

"No! He's a great medicine cat, it's just—" She sunk her claws into the mouse. "Just nevermind. Do you want the rest of this mouse?"

It looked appetizing, and his mouth watered at the thought of eating it. "No, I'm going to be taking fresh-kill to the elders and search for ticks, I guess. Patchsong usually says I'm not allowed to eat until the elders have been fed and I've done all my tasks around the camp."

She nodded, expression somewhat hollow. "Oh. Better get to those elders then. They'll know you were meant to be there helping them, and you're hear them gossiping about you being lazy like cats at the Gathering. They have a sixth sense like that."

Pinepaw nodded, then looked at her seriously. "Really, if there's something bothering you, you can tell me. Or even tell Weedpaw. He's your brother, he'd understand."

"He wouldn't understand this," she murmured. "Neither would you."

His whiskers drooped. "Okay. Do you want to help me clear out the elders' bedding? Maybe that'll help take your mind off things."

She considered it for a moment, looking like she might decline the offer, then dipped her head. "Okay. That might help."

As always, as the two apprentices approached the elder's den, the two elders were chattering about the latest Clan gossip. Much to Pinepaw's surprise, Weedpaw was in the den clearing out the bedding already, and he looked up with surprise when he saw the two enter. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh," Pinepaw said. "Patchsong sent me in to tend to the elders."

"Talk about luxery," Creekvine said, stretching out. "We now have three apprentices working on making our den comfortable."

"Get out of here, Creekvine," Graysnow said. "Weedpaw's all we need. Why don't you two see if Frostpelt needs anything? I don't think the kits can use the dirtplace yet, so that bedding must get rather nasty every day."

"Nix that." Creekvine poked his nose through his back fur. "I have a tick here you could get."

"Do you want to get the mouse bile?" Pinepaw asked, moving toward Creekvine's flank so he could separate the fur with his paws. Larkpaw stared at him coldly, then Pinepaw remembered that she didn't want to be near the medicine cat. "Nevermind, I'll get it. Can you find the tick for him?"

"Sure," Larkpaw said, settling down beside the elder.

Pinepaw returned with a bit of moss covered in mouse bile, struggling not to breathe through his mouth or swallow. It stung his tongue with an extra sour, harsh taste. The elders were in full chatter mode by the time he reached the den, and they didn't even seem to notice him entering.

"I can't believe Shadeflood," Graysnow spat. "He still hasn't chosen an apprentice! What does he think's going to happen if he dies? ThunderClan will be left without a medicine cat! He was only born six moons after I was. Does he think he's going to last forever?"

"Someone needs to talk to Foxstar about that," Creekvine said. "Can you imagine? What if ThunderClan didn't have a medicine cat? We might as well hand our territory over to RiverClan and ShadowClan! StarClan would forsake us forever!"

"It really isn't his fault, though," Larkpaw said quietly. "No cat has volunteered to be his apprentice. He can't force someone to."

"He needs to get one of Frostpelt's kits interested in the position," Graysnow said. "If he doesn't, it'll be because of his own laziness."

"Oh, do you know what I heard?" Creekvine said. "I heard it from Darkbreeze. He said Cloudeye and Willowshine have been spending more time together. You might actually get those grand kits you want."

Graysnow released a sudden squeal of delight. "Really? I'll have to speak with him as soon as I see him next! What a surprise!"

"More kits!" Weedpaw complained. "Like it's not messy enough in there already. If you add another litter of kits in there, an apprentice will have to clean it out every hour!"

"That'll give you something else to do but complain about cleaning here," Creekvine said. "There's a thorn in my nest, too! Come on, Weedpaw, didn't you check thoroughly for thorns?"

"Hey! I'm doing the best I can here!" Weedpaw said, squeaking indignantly as Creekvine gave him a playful swipe around the ears. "Come on, can you blame me when you have three apprentices here and two of them are watching _me_ work?"

"That's right," Creekvine said. "Come here with that mouse bile, my pelt is itching like crazy!"

"If I get any of those ticks, I'm kicking you out of the den," Graysnow said, getting up and settling back down in a more comfortable position in the new nest that Weedpaw had made for her. "I promise you that."

Pinepaw dabbed a bit of mouse bile on one of the ticks that Larkpaw had ready. As he worked, he watched the tortoiseshell she-cat's expression with curiosity. The talk of new kits seemed to make her even more depressed, and she was getting that same glaze to her eyes that Patchsong had. What about kits would make her upset? Had she and Weedpaw lost a littermate that Pinepaw didn't know about? He knew that they weren't from the same litter as Sunpaw, and he didn't know about any other deaths. Not to mention, Weedpaw didn't seem like he had a care in the world.

So why did Larkpaw seem so sad?


End file.
